


and he told me i was holy

by dogf1ght



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Break Up, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-24 11:53:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4918495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogf1ght/pseuds/dogf1ght
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler is a feminine trans boy who's ex is an asshole and Josh is a punk who's fallen in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and he told me i was holy

**Author's Note:**

> title from hold me down by halsey. loosely inspired by my underlying paranoia in my last relationship and my old overlying paranoia about starting school with my pronouns and gender identity 
> 
> also hahha hha aahhh aahaha this sucks im sorry i just wanted to get this out of my drafts bc its been in here for awhile

Tyler does not love his boyfriend.

 

Well, right now he’s not so sure. If this ends like the last of their fights, they’ll just put the large suitcase away together, but if it doesn’t? Maybe a the extra space on Tyler’s bed wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

 

Tyler's chest is crushed when his (ex?) boyfriend let's the "No, I...I don't" out of his thin pink lips. The taller, more masculine boy shoves more of his things into a large suitcase. After he zips it up, and takes another look at Tyler's makeup bag before sighing for the thousandth time that day.

 

The man clears his throat before speaking again. "I could handle...I could handle the whole transsexual thing. And the bisexual thing. And even the testosterone being kept in our house instead of your parents’,” He rubs his temples with his hands. “But the makeup thing? I thought you’d give up all that girly shit once we started dating!” Tyler's ex-lover gestures to his face, which has what was casual makeup on it, but now is smeared and smudged and streaked in every possible direction. Then he slams their shared closet’s door, which holds items including but not limited to: a flower robe, three floral sweaters, a pair of pink skinny jeans, and an entire box of nail polish. He continues. "I'm fucking gay, Tyler. 100% gay. I like fucking men up the ass, and they like it too. I don't need my damn sexuality questioned any more than it already is."

 

I am a boy, you jackass, Tyler wants to say. I am a fucking boy, I don't shoot myself up with the hormones I wished my body produced naturally once a week for nothing, you asshole.

 

But alas, Tyler does nothing. He just tries to stand tall as he watches the love of his life pack their compatibility away in a box of leather and lies.

"P-please, please don't leave me," he pleads out, and Tyler really does start crying. Ugly, gross, nothing-you'd-see-in-romantic-movies crying. Tyler loves this man, he really does. He knows they've only been together six months, but this is the best relationship Tyler's ever had. And yeah, he could understand the whole feminine boy thing (he's had enough dysphoria and doubt to last a lifetime, and winged eyeliner made him feel okay...but he knows that not everyone is going to like it). 

Tyler's now ex-boyfriend goes down the stairs to the front door, but stops to face Tyler once more before he leaves. "I'm sorry, I just...I can't do this anymore." Then, he throws Tyler his old house key and runs to his car.

 

The smaller boy's lips quiver and he sniffles. "You liar," Tyler says to himself, before closing the door. “You never loved me.”

He waits until the car is at least four blocks away before he bolts out the door in the opposite direction. Who cares if his nearest safe haven is twenty blocks away? 

Certainly not the asthmatic Tyler, who passes out the minute he manages to push the storm door of his best friends’ house open.

 

//////////////////////////////

 

Josh walks into Pete and Patrick's house with too many boxes of cookies for one person and five movies, but not enough chocolate things to last two through a night of regret. His nose ring and labret ball glow in the porch light in front of the house. His stands there for around five minutes, knocking occasionally before he just opens the door and leaves the food on the counter before grabbing a can of pop from the fridge.

 

"Pete! Patrick!" he calls out, making sure they know he's here. "Yo! I got the shit! Come on motherfuckers, let's start this movie marathon!" When he doesn't hear a sound back, he heads downstairs to start the movie anyway. He's been over here enough for it to be a second home, and he knows they've seen Saw 2 at least 24 times, so it’s not that big of a deal when he chooses the movie on Netflix. The tv’s downstairs, though, so he has to find his way around Penny, who’s more Cerberus than Pomeranian. Right before he's about to turn the corner into the basement (and face off with an animal 1/16th his weight), Pete grabs his right shoulder and turns Josh to face him.

 

The minute Josh sees him, his entire aura calms to a close stop. Pete’s face is full of despair as he talks to his friend. "Listen, you know that Tyler kid?" Pete asks him. Yeah, yeah Josh knows this Tyler kid. Well, more knows of him rather than...knows him. They went to the same high school, and the quiet, punk Josh marveled at the cute pink-loving Tyler Joseph from afar. The distance got even farther when he started dating That Guy, and That Guy coerced Tyler in to dropping the only art class they shared.

Josh, needless to say, never really liked That Guy.

 

He nods. "I mean, yeah...why?"

“He, he…” Pete sighs and rubs his temples. “His boyfriend…” Oh my god, Josh thinks. Oh my god. Tyler was raped, or beaten, or killed, or...something. Tyler’s in pain and if That Guy, or anyone for that matter, is the cause of it, he’s going to beat them into a bloody pulp. Josh zones back in when Pete starts talking again. “His boyfriend broke up with him, and he’s an emotional wreck. Can you go comfort him? Patrick’s at his house, locking up and getting stuff for him to stay the night, and I’m shit at being nice...so…will you…” Pete struggles to find the right words. “Comfort him? I know you guys have never met, but…” 

Josh nods, and agrees. Pete seems relieved that he doesn’t have to finish his sentence, and moves aside to let Josh through to the basement door. The stairs, which have always creaked, seem as loud as the heartbeat in his ears. 

He finds Tyler curled up in a ball on the floor next to the mattress-bed thing Patrick put together two years ago. (Patrick claims that it was because Pete complains too much about being fucked on the floor, Pete just says it’s because watching movies on the floor is uncomfortable. Either way, it’s stained like hell and Josh can barely look at it without vomiting.) 

The minute he touches Tyler, he curls around Josh like an injured kitten. Josh shushes Tyler’s whimpers, wiping away the tears and petting the crying boy’s hair as he does. Josh doesn’t know what to think, he doesn’t even know if he has the capacity to think at this point.

All that’s running through his mind is ohmygodistylerokayishegonnabeokayhishairissosoftohmygodpleasestopcryingihateseeingyoucrypleasestopcrying.

“It’s okay,” Josh says, rubbing the smaller boy’s temples. “It’s okay.” 

Tyler’s wretched, screaming cries soon turn into few and far between high-pitched whimpers. He turns over in Josh’s lap. He now faces the punk boy’s upper body rather than his ripped-up skinny jean covered legs.

“Are you sure?” the crying boy sniffles as he talks. He's looking at him like a lifeline.

Josh smiles back before he answers. “Yeah, yeah buddy. I’m sure.”


End file.
